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The Savages

Review By: Andrea Tuccillo
AndreaTuccillo@TheCinemaSource.com

The title The Savages conjures up images of a wild jungle with tangles of vines, splashes of color, and fierce animals ready to tear you limb from limb. While the film is not actually set in such a place, its real subject matter can be just as scary and dreaded for some people. It’s certainly unfamiliar territory for siblings Wendy (Laura Linney ) and Jon (Philip Seymour Hoffman) Savage who are faced with the overwhelming responsibility of taking care of their elderly, dementia-afflicted father (Philip Bosco). A far cry from the jungle, these ‘Savages’ must learn to navigate the stark, generic halls of a nursing home.

The setting of The Savages may be bleak, but the movie itself is not. Thanks to a brilliant script by Tamara Jenkins (who also directed), an unexplored subject matter, and realistically raw performances by Laura Linney and Philip Seymour Hoffman, The Savages turns out to be a touching and honest film. Jenkins peppers her scenes with moments so real that you’re unsure of whether to cringe or laugh (most often, you find yourself doing both), refusing to shy away from the embarrassments and disappointments of life.

While Wendy and Jon are not as cruel as their surname might suggest, they certainly have their fair share of issues. Both are middle-aged failures in a sense, emotionally stunted and leading incomplete lives. They haven’t seen their father Lenny in years, nor do they have a particularly loving relationship with him. Lenny never cared for his children (physical and emotional abuse is hinted at), and now they must struggle between feelings of obligation and resentment.

The emotional scars of Wendy and Jon’s childhood have led them down different paths. Wendy’s a struggling playwright living in New York City who takes temp office jobs to pay the bills and carries on a passionless affair with her married neighbor. Her plays are semi-autobiographical tales of family dysfunctional and childhood pain, a clear indication that her own past still haunts her in the present. She’s prone to inappropriate behavior (lying, self-medication), and does little to conceal her emotional distress.

Jon, on the other hand, reveals his feelings differently. Hoffman is quite heartbreaking as this emotional guy who wishes he wasn’t so emotional, and in fact tries hard not to be. A theater professor with commitment issues living in Buffalo, he takes a practical approach to their father’s situation. He calmly and matter-of-factly picks out a reasonable nursing home close to his house, and that is that. But cracks in his armor reveal themselves in his relationship with his Polish girlfriend. She’s leaving the country, and Jon is devastated—but he won’t ask her to stay. So instead he breaks down in tears every time she cooks him breakfast.

Linney and Hoffman fall into the sister and brother roles with ease, arguing like real siblings ...